


trc one shots

by ghcstkinq



Category: Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater, blue lily lily blue, dream thieves - Fandom, raven boys, the raven king - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Nightmares, Violence, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9548087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghcstkinq/pseuds/ghcstkinq
Summary: This is where any trc one shots I write will be. The ship (If there is any) will be in the chapter title.





	1. The Dreamer (Ronan Lynch)

It was dark. The kind of dark that made you think that your eyes were actually closed. The kind of dark that made it impossible to see your hands, even when they were right in front of you.

Ronan was used to this dark. It was with him every day of his life. He was not scared of this. He was born in this. Nothing could control his dreams but himself.

What scared him was that he was not alone. He didn’t know how he could tell he wasn’t alone, but he could feel a presence. A breathing down his neck, even though there was no actual breath.

He couldn’t move. He didn’t have a plan for this. What could he do if he couldn’t even see where he was—much less something else?

“Could I get some light?” He demanded of his dreams. Suddenly, a light flickered on, revealing the room he was in.

Ronan looked around and had to stop himself from laughing. He was in his childhood bedroom—just how he had left it, too. Right down to the race-car bed sheets.

“So, this is the game you want to play, huh?” Ronan called out to… nothing. He looked around—under the bed, in the closet, outside the windows—but there wasn’t anything around.

Then what the hell do I feel? Ronan thought. He knew he wasn’t completely out of his wits. Not yet, at least. He was certainly competent enough to know if something was in the same room as him.

And yet—empty. He couldn’t see anything in this room—but the feeling of someone watching him hadn’t left.

He turned and saw the door that led to the hallway. Did the thing want him to explore around his old home? That was cruel on a whole new level.

Not one to wuss out, Ronan walked towards the door and opened it. Still nothing. Although, was it him, or was the grandfather clock that used to scare him as a kid a lot bigger?

He checked left—towards the rest of the bedrooms in the farmhouse—but nothing seemed to be abnormal over there. He looked right—there was a small flickering flame (from a candle?) coming from somewhere in that area—he decided to check it out.

It turns out the candle was inside the living room. It hadn’t changed since the last he saw it, either. Same beaten-up, mix-matched furniture, same tiny TV and stereo system. He shivered—this room always seemed to be colder than the others.

The candle sat on top of the coffee table, the wax melting onto it in a blood-red gob.

He looked around, but still found nothing living around. This was strange. Why would the thing lead him here if it didn’t want to ambush him?

Suddenly there was a noise, like a cat growling. Ronan turned quickly on his heel and saw the front door of the house being opened. He sighed. Of course the thing wanted him to go outside to the barns.

But this time, Ronan hesitated. While all his dreams usually consisted of going back to this place, every time it was like opening up an old wound. While he could usually control his dreams, he couldn’t do it when it was a nightmare—and this certainly felt like a nightmare. Whatever the monster was, it was in control now, and it knew it.

Whatever, Ronan thought. He wasn’t going to let something he created threaten him. No matter how much it knew of his weaknesses, it still wasn’t real, and he was. He was real, he was stronger, and he wasn’t going to let this thing taunt him.

He pressed forward to the barns, already knowing which one out of the three there were to go in. He had seen this a million times, and he tried to brace himself to see it again.

He struggled to get the barn door opened, but when he did, he heard the same choked up, “Ronan,” and cough that played again and again in his head.

Suddenly, Ronan was twelve years old again, watching his father being torn apart by the air. Blood spurted out from his chest, his throat, his wrists. He hadn’t known it then, but his dad had nightmares like Ronan did—only his father’s had killed him.

Ronan turned away, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. He just had to use his dad as a reminder to not let his dreams get the best of him.

“Show yourself,” Ronan yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of the barn. He looked around. There weren’t any animals here, and it wasn’t the best lit thing.

Something pushed him to the ground, his face hitting the floor. He could already feel blood gushing out of his nose.

I’m stronger, he reminded himself. I’m real, this thing is something I thought up.

But it was a lot harder to fight your demons than to create them.

He felt the thing climb on his back. It scratched at his neck and he screamed. “Get off of me! I’m your God, listen to me!”

The thing actually listened and jumped off of him. Ronan stood up as quickly as he could and turned to it. It was a wolf-like creature with shining green eyes. It was still in attack mode, it’s mouth snarled, and it’s ears were pinned back, but it didn’t lunge towards Ronan.

Ronan smirked. “That’s right, you bastard,” he said. “Now, I want you to leave me alone, you understand? I control you, not the other way around.”

It looked like it was considering what Ronan said for a moment. Then, it lunged.

Wake up, wake up, wake up! He thought.

Ronan was thrown into consciousness. His eyes shot open and he sat straight up like a bullet. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his whole body was covered in sweat. Wait, he rubbed his neck, sweat, and blood.

He looked down at his sheets, stained with blood. He cursed, How was he supposed to explain that to his roommate? Ronan sighed at himself as he began to clean up.

He really needed to get his nightmares under control.


	2. The Insomniacs--Ronsey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The two Insomniacs comfort each other.

Unsurprisingly, Ronan couldn’t sleep. When could he ever? He was practically married to insomnia at this point.

But on top of that, he was bored. Usually, he could stand insomnia if he had something to do. But he had listened to his music so much that it didn’t interest him, he read all the books in Monmouth, and they didn’t have a T.V.

Usually, even with all this, he would stay in his room. There was no need to bother his best friend’s sleep, after all. But tonight was different. The silence was deafening and Ronan couldn’t take it much longer. He felt he was actually going to go insane.

And so he walked out into the main living area.

He hadn’t expected to see Gansey drinking orange juice from the cartoon in their kitchen/dining room/bathroom in his underwear, but that’s what he found.

Ronan had the decency to look away and clear his throat. Well, it wasn’t out of decency, but more out of sheer embarrassment.

Gansey looked over and saw Ronan. He looked away, too. “Hey man,” he said quietly. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” Ronan said as Gansey strolled towards him.

“Nightmares?” he asked, as Ronan was prone to them. Ronan shook his head. “Orange juice?”

Ronan accepted the juice and took a gulp. He watched as Gansey walked over to his mattress (which sat in the middle of the living area next to a 3D model of Henrietta) and grabbed a pair of sweatpants that lay on it. “Are you having… you know, thoughts?”

Ronan shrugged. “Probably,” he said. “But if I am, I don’t even know what they are… why are you awake?”

Gansey shrugged too. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

Ronan opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t want the words to come out. He couldn’t ask Gansey. It was downright embarrassing.

Thankfully the look Ronan gave Gansey was enough. He smiled. “You wanna stay up and talk?”

Ronan wordlessly walked over to his mattress and sat down, grateful his best friend knew him so well. They boys looked at each other. “So,” Ronan said, clearing his throat. “You really just couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah, I had a weird dream and just… couldn’t forget about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ronan asked, not wanting his best friend to be a prisoner of his own dreams. He knew what that felt like, and he didn’t want Gansey to go through that.

“No, no… there’s no real point in it,” Gansey said.

He sounded so alone that Ronan scooted closer to him. Gansey put his head on Ronan’s shoulder and sighed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said.

They were both silent for a few moments before Gansey said, “Do you remember a few years ago, when we spent the summer at your place… and we’d run around the barn all day?” he asked. “Remember that day when your favorite cow laid her head on your lap?”

“Of course,” Ronan said. That had been one of the most peaceful days of his life. Well, whenever Gansey was around, he was at peace, really. But that summer they spent together had been so relaxing that it felt like it hadn’t been real at times.

“Do you remember, right afterwards, when we were laying on the roof of your house, looking up at the sky, and everything was just so… calm?” Gansey said, sounding far away now. “Do you ever wish that we could go back?”

“All the time,” Ronan said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t get me wrong, I do love my life, and I know that searching for Glendower—doing all of this, I know that’s what I should be doing,” Gansey said, pulling away from Ronan’s shoulder. “Sometimes, I just… this quest feels so stressful, and I want to go back to before we found the ley line.”

Ronan gave Gansey a look to continue.

“Like, before we found it—it was just a silly adventure—travelling around the world, learning different things, and now…” Gansey trailed off.

“It just feels so real?” Ronan guessed.

He nodded. “And in a way, it’s exciting, you know? I’m excited that we’re this close to him, and I’m happy that we met Noah, Blue, and Adam, and even Henry—but… before we found the ley line, this wasn’t really dangerous. There was always a hint of danger, and it was exciting. But… now… now I just really feel the pressure.”

“Hey,” Ronan put a hand on Gansey’s shoulder. “Everything will turn out okay.”

“Your words, although are meant to be comforting, aren’t,” Gansey said, looking down. “Because there’s no possible way you know that.”

“I do know that,” Ronan said. “Because if I’m around—nothing’s going to ever hurt you.”

Gansey still didn’t seem to believe him. Ronan sighed, not really wanting to get sentimental.

But Gansey clearly needed him right now, so sucking up his pride, he took Gansey’s hand in his and spoke.

“You remember that summer as clearly as I do?” Ronan asked, and Gansey nodded. “Then you remember when you fell off the roof of my house and broke your leg?”

“Are you kidding? I still have the scar.”

“But do you remember healing?”

Gansey bit his thumb and furrowed his eyebrows. After a moment, he shook his head. “Now that you mention it, I remember I healed pretty fast…”

“That’s because I dreamt something that fixed your leg,” he said. “The next morning, I gave you a pill, and it healed you up. And I dreamt something to help you anytime you needed it. Every time you’ve gotten hurt, I’ve healed you, and I took care of you. Anytime I knew there was danger, I helped deflect it from you. And I’m always going to be there to protect you. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m around.”

“Oh, Ronan,” Gansey said, looking up at him. He threw himself at Ronan, wrapping his arms around his neck. “You do care.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Ronan said.

“I would never,” he said, and then suddenly pulled himself off Ronan. He looked at him with a disgusted face. “Wait—you healed my leg, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And you let me walk around with this awful scar on my leg?” Gansey looked absolutely offended. “Some friend you are.”

He smiled. “I thought it made you look like a badass—and let’s face it, you need something to make you look a little intimidating.”

“That’s so rude,” Gansey said, putting his hand to his heart. If anyone else had done it, it would’ve looked obviously sarcastic, but when Gansey did it, it seemed like he was genuinely offended. Then he smiled. “Besides, that’s why I got you.”

“That actually makes sense,” Ronan said with a nod.

“Exactly,” Gansey said, and then scooched around and laid down on his pillow. “Are you ready for sleep now?”

Ronan nodded, laying down next to him. “Night.”

“Sweet dreams,” Gansey said, covering both of them up. “I expect you to dream me something to get rid of my scar.”

“Maybe in your dreams, dick,” Ronan smirked.

With that, Ronan closed his eyes. Feeling his best friend next to him, he was able to fall asleep, after all.


End file.
